Well, I think all of us survived the first day of classes, even if just barely. By the end of my second 4-hour class I was ready to eat my pen I was so hungry, but had to wait until after a talk by the head of the department about how to get the most out of our time and the pros and cons of the 2 and 3 year options when a bunch of us in the class went out for beer and/or food. Since I hadn't eaten since 1pm and had to drive myself home after, I skipped the beer. :)

Production (521) looks like it's going to be a real challenge, not like anything I've really done before, but might turn out to be a lot of fun. I'm hoping so, anyway, and I am really excited about getting into the editing end of things. It's just the making of the video to be edited that makes me nervous.

Then after a one-hour break, it was off to our first writing class, Writing the Short Script (513), also known as "Practice your scales, Dear." I don't mean to sound disparaging with that appellation; the class just involves a lot of short scene work before we get to stringing them together. Which when you think about it, makes a lot of sense. So far, it seems like our little section of eight (the class is split into four groups for our writing classes) has potential to mesh pretty well. The professor has also put out many encouraging signs. He listens, makes good comments, and has yet to belittle anyone. I'd say that's not a bad first day, all in all.

Today I only have one class (thank goodness), Critical Studies 501, history of international silent film. This class doesn't seem to have many people in our group excited, but after yesterday, I'm kind of looking forward to a straight lecture course.

Well, having been throughly (dis?)oriented over the end of last week, I'm now ready to begin my first day of classes. First up, Filmic Communication at 9am.

Of course, I was terrified that I was going to get stuck in traffic, and I had been warned about how hectic parking could be in the mornings of the first week, so I left the apartment at 7. Naturally, there was not traffic to speak of and the traffic lights were kind, so I was walking out of the parking center at 7:35, a personal record as far as my commute is concerned. So I find myself with some significant time to kill before I can even show up early to class.

Big news is that last Friday I got to meet my fellow writers who seem like a pretty cool bunch of folks. Or, if they aren't all cool, there are definitely some neat and funky representatives among them. Now, I get to seem them in what is to become our natural environment.

We start things off with a bang. Tuesdays are my heaviest class day with my production class in the morning and Writing the Short Script in the afternoon. Eight hours in class total. Since the alarm went off at six this morning, I have a feeling I am going to sleep well tonight.

Despite my utter certainty that everything had somehow collapsed at the last second, and I would have to return to Boston, my head hanging in defeat, I got to USC today and the computers did know who I was. And let's face it, the computers are the ones I want to be recognizing me at this stage. And there was even a mailbox for me in the writing office. I feel so official now.

So far I have obtained: registration confirmation, a student I.D., a highly incomplete list of books I will need for class, information on the orientation part of orientation, and a proposal of marriage. (This last from a guy in the elevator at the Lucas Building upon discovering that I was a writer, and knew about Marvel's abandonment of the Comic Code. I laughed and didn't tell him that I was steering clear of guys who did know about the Comic Code.)

I have also encountered someone who did not get into the screenwriting program at USC, she was there for the professional writing program instead. I'm sure it says more about the people I've met than the selectivity of the program, but everyone I know who applied to do any sort of Cinema at USC got in. Of course, I only knew two people who have applied prior to their application, the others I've met at USC, so you can see how this would skew my sample.

I walked aimlessly around for a while after I had checked in with every office I could think of, and was very glad that I had gotten to campus before the hoards descended between 10 and 11 AM. There were only two people on the Finanacial Aid line when I got on it, and it was still slow. I also went around to various offices in the School of Cinema-Television, scouting the ground for possilbe work-study opportunities. I have a couple of good leads, which is nice, and people are pleased to hear I have office experience. So see? My work at Harvard turns out to be useful after all.

The commute is okay. The trickiest part is getting out of my parking space at the apartment building, and I'm still experimenting with the actual road part of the journey. For some reason, traffic always seems worse on the east-west streets than the north-south ones. If I am feeling brave tomorrow perhaps I will see if it is worth it to take the 10 from La Brea to Vermont. One thing I know for sure, I'm not going to take Santa Monica again if I can help it. At 2 in the afternoon I was stuck in bumper to bumper traffic.

Oh, and for those who were concerned, I have procured a bed.

At base camp before approaching the front. Also known as crashing with the rentals before starting the drive to L.A.

I've got a desk in the car already. Just need to get a bed when I get there.

A word to the wise, from someone aspiring to wisdom. When you decide to attend USC, and need to get campus parking, have someone who you can call and ask where the lots actually are, because there's nothing on the website that might easily and clearly convey that information.

Okay, okay, so it's been more than a month. Suffice it to say that I've been reading books and watching movies and leave it at that. The big news is that I have a place to live in L.A.

Yes, despite what you might have heard, it is possible to find an apartment in L.A. in a week. It's not something I would recommend doing on one's own, as you might find a place only to discover that your sanity has been left far behind. But thanks to the wonderful tenacity of my flat-mate-to-be, who refused to settle despite my desperation (she doesn't *have* to be there on any certain date, or at all, why should I worry?), we have found a place we can both look forward to living in.

So yeah, I'm actually going. Is this insane or what?

Juliet of the Spirits

Note to self: do not watch Fellini while falling asleep. The difference between his dream imagery and one's own becomes very obscure.

Paired with Cool Hand Luke it makes for quite a double feature.